Just Add Water
by LM Simpson
Summary: Ten Irma and Martin oneshots, all originally written for the 10 per genre LJ community. DISCONTINUED
1. Telephone

**Telephone**

A fan fiction by LM Simpson

Disclaimer: None of the characters in this story are mine; all originally appeared in the comic W.I.T.C.H. and are as a result owned by someone else. No money is being made from this.

LM Simpson's tidbits (A/N): Yay! My first drabble for the 10 per genre challenge on LiveJournal! When I was looking through the community, I was thinking of a favorite pairing of mine that I could write for. My favorite pairing in W.I.T.C.H. is MartinxIrma (since day one, to tell y'all the truth), and although I wasn't expecting there to be a lot of fic, I was sorely disappointed with the lack of it. So, I decided to "claim" the pairing for the challenge. This first one takes place just before Irma and Martin go to the museum in issue five…

Enjoy!

(PS- I accept constructive criticism; for more information, please read **My Flame Policy **on my profile…)

**Table: Comedy/Humor**

**Prompt 7: If at first you don't succeed…**

0000

He got the answering machine and hung up. Immediately afterwards, he pressed "redial" and waited; it happened again.

_Why won't she pick up? _Martin thought as he called a third time. _I _know _she's home today…_

Beep… Beep… Beep…

"Whad'dya want?"

"IRMA!" yelled an overjoyed Martin. "How are you, my little dumpling?"

"… Irma? That's my sister."

"Huh? Oh! I'm so sorry, really!" replied Martin, laughing nervously. "Is she home right now?"

"Yeah," Christopher said, "Let me go get her…"

Martin heard her brother call out something (did he just say "boyfriend?"), then some footsteps, and then finally that familiar voice coming on the other line. "Martin?"

"Hi, my—"

"Martin, how did you get my number? By stalking me?"

"Don't you remember? You gave it to me after you said yes to our date!"

_You mean my astral drop said yes to 'our date!' _Irma thought before saying, "So, why are you calling me, anyway?"

"Just wanted to say I'm almost here to pick you up for our date! I just to take three, two… aaand…"

Irma heard the doorbell ring from downstairs. No way in…

"Irma, dear, your friend is here!"

The water guardian started trying to delay the inevitable right away…

THE END

A/N: The next one will be up as one as I get finished with another one of the prompts; until then, thanks for reading, and have a good day!

Bye, y'all!

LM Simpson


	2. Le Professeur du Français

Le Professeur du Français

A fan fiction by LM Simpson

Disclaimer: I don't own Irma Lair and Martin Tubbs (but y'all already know that).

LM Simpson's tidbits (A/N): (Throws toast to Nobility and Wizard-Theif) Thanks for the support, guys!

This one actually originated from an old IrmaxMartin oneshot that I just never finished for a variety of reasons (it was inspired by a certain little scene in issue nine, as you can see just by the title). I thought of said oneshot when I was deciding on which prompt to do next, so I scratched the original and started all over again. I've explained some stuff that the reader may have trouble with in the fic; just carefully read and y'all should be able to find it. If you still can't find it, just ask me, and I'll explain it.

Enjoy!

**Table: Comedy/Humor**

**Prompt 9: Backfired!**

0000

Martin could barely contain himself. He was within seconds of tutoring Irma in French. While it gave him a chance to be with her, the best part, though, was that it gave him the opportunity to be seen as someone else other than geeky, Irma Lair fanboy Martin Tubbs. Heck, maybe he could even impress her with his French skills and finally win her over like he had wished for the last two years of his life…

"So, Irma, what are you having trouble with?"

"Lots of things…"

"What do you want to work on, first?"

"Um… how about reflexive verbs?"

"Alrighty, then—do you have your homework with you?"

She nodded slowly, and opened her backpack. "Yeah, but it's gonna make your inner Frenchman cry," she said grimly as she gave him a sheet of paper.

"Oh, I don't think you did it _that _badly," Martin said before looking down. "OH MY GOSH!"

Martin stared in horror as he took a look at Irma's homework. The "ils" and "il" forms were switched, she had written the "tu" form where "vous" should have been, and the "je" form's reflexive pronoun—"me"—was correct, but the verbs had the "tu" form. Why, the only completely correct one was the "nous" form! His little cupcake desperately needed help—and stat!

"Well, uh, what do you want to start on first?" Irma asked.

"How about we do all of them?" he replied, tearing a piece of paper out of his notebook. He quickly scribbled something and put the sheet on the desk.

As it turned out, he had made a chart:

**Se laver**

**Je**

**Tu**

**Il/Elle/On**

**Nous**

**Vous**

**Ils/Elles**

"You seem to have a lot of trouble with all of them except for the 'nous' form. So, I decided I will help you one reflexive verb at a time. We'll use 'se laver—' 'to wash oneself' for the examples."

"Okey-dokey," Irma said.

Martin took out a pen. "Now, the pronouns are very simple. 'Se' is used for two forms"— he wrote the word after "il" and "ils"—"'nous' and 'vous' repeat the pronouns, 'je,' 'me,' and 'te' starts with the same letter as 'tu.' Got it?"

"Um… I guess," she answered, sounding and looking not completely sure, but still a little more understanding of the concept.

"Okay, then," Martin said, "do you know how to conjugate regular –er verbs?"

"Yeah…"

"Then that's what you do, Irma! Finish the chart!"

Irma snatched the pen from him and began writing. For every pronoun she worked on, she said its translation at a barely audible volume. I washed myself… You washed… He, she it, we washed, we, y'all, they…

…Until the chart was completely filled.

**Se laver**

**Je me lave**

**Tu te laves**

**Il/Elle/On se lave**

**Nous nous lavons**

**Vous vous lavez**

**Ils/Elles se lavent**

« Très bien ! » Martin exclaimed, partially trying to impress her. « C'est très bien ! Tu es un renard, ma petite ! »

"I'm a _what?_" Irma asked.

"I said you were a fox. You see—"

He had not begun his explanation that being called a fox was actually a comment stating how sly and clever one is in France when Irma slapped him across the face.

"Don't you _ever_ do that again!" she yelled as she stormed out of the classroom.

THE END

A/N: In retrospect, maybe it was a good idea I didn't do this when I was a first year French student (heck, maybe in a few years, I'll regret doing this when I was a third year French student… LOL). Thanks for reading, though, and until next time, have a good day!

Bye, y'all!

LM Simpson


	3. That Darn Song!

**That Darn Song!**

A fan fiction by LM Simpson

Disclaimer: I don't own W.I.T.C.H. (no seriously, I don't).

LM Simpson's tidbits (A/N): (Throws toast to Nobility and Wizard-Theif) Thanks again for the feedback!

In other news, here's the newest chapter to the challenge!

Enjoy!

**Table 3: Comedy/Humor**

**Prompt 5: Humiliation**

0000

_What a boring morning, _Irma thought. It was early in the morning, which meant no Boy Comet, no Karmilla music videos, _nothing. _

And that was why she was watching cartoons with Christopher. Too bad he did not have good taste in what to watch; it appeared that he would watch _anything_, no matter how stupid it was.

However, it was apparent that even he knew when to just stop watching, as Irma found out as he got up from his spot on the floor and ran.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Did you finally get a brain and realized that Joey the Juggling Kangaroo is not even guilty pleasure worthy?"

"No!" he cried out. "Happy the Happy Hippo is about to come on! It's a bigger baby show than Telepuppies, and that's saying something! I'm getting out of here while I still can!"

"Go right ahead," she muttered as he ran out of sight. She then leaned over, reaching for the remote when all of a sudden, the TV screen turned black.

"Huh? What the…?"

Suddenly, a picture of a cartoon jungle appeared. The image was at first accompanied by stock jungle sounds, then a quick, pleasant instrumental, and then the same instrumental, only with lyrics: 

"_I love you,_

"_You love me._

"_Let's sing a happy, happy song…"_

_Um… Okay… _she thought.

Then, suddenly, the song became more upbeat:

"_Happy, happy hippos!_

"_Happy, happy gators!_

"_Happy, happy birds, birds!..."_

_This has got to be the strangest thing I have ever heard, _she continued thinking, her eyes for all she knew as big as grapefruits by now, _I wonder what the actual show is like…_

Getting completely back onto the couch, she watched as an episode of Happy the Happy Hippo began…

0000

_Okay, Irma, _she thought the next day, _you saw Happy the Happy Hippo and you actually kinda liked it. As long as you don't show any sign of it, no one will know… Yeah, _no one _will _ever _know…_

_Too bad I can't get that stupid theme song out of my head! _She kept thinking as she entered Mister Collins' class with Taranee and Hay Lin.

Inside the classroom, bored students were staring at the ceiling, sleeping or writing on their desks as their teacher talked about the Hundred Years War. Apart from Collin's monologue, all was, for the most part, quiet until Collins was joined with one of his pupils faintly singing:

"_I love you,_

"_You love me._

"_Let's sing a happy, happy song…"_

As the girl continued singing, the entire class turned their heads towards her…

…Until Irma stopped singing. Looking at a bewildered Taranee and Hay Lin, she said, "What? What's wrong, guys?"

Then she noticed how many other people were giving her the same look. "Oh, crud…"

Suddenly, kids started pointing and laughing at her.

"Ha ha! Irma likes Happy the Happy Hippo!" one cried as Mister Collins attempted to quiet everyone down.

"Irma and Happy, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" said another.

"Hey, Irma! Let's sing a happy, happy song!" jeered yet another.

As Mister Collins finally regained control over his class, Irma sank in her chair, red as a crayon…

0000

Irma found herself walking alone on the way home. She didn't have to do it, but she did not want to explain anything to anyone, not even her friends. She had had enough criticism for one day…

All of a sudden, she heard an all too familiar voice repeating her name; it got louder and louder as it came closer.

Finally, she found herself side-by-side with Martin, who said, "Are you okay, my little sugar cookie? I heard what happened to you today…"

"Look, Martin," she said, obviously not happy, "I don't need this right now. Can't you just leave me alone?"

"But Irma, I wanna tell you something!" 

"Martin, if it's that I'm a baby for watching and liking Happy the Happy Hippo, I've heard it a million times already today!"

"It's not that," he replied, "It's that…"

He pulled his shirt up, causing Irma to gasp. "You mean there's Happy T-shirts in your size?!"

"Well, yeah," he said, pulling his shirt back down, "It actually has a small cult following, to say the least… Everyone in the Happy Bears are huge fans, and we're going to watch a marathon this Saturday; wanna come?"

Irma couldn't believe her ears. Happy was a cult hit? _Oh, good, _she thought, _I'm not the only person over three to like it…_

"Uh… I'll see, I guess," she replied, not thinking halfway.

"Great!" he yelled, "It'll be at my house at eight! See ya, Irma!" he continued as he left.

Irma, however, stayed in her place, smiling. _I'm not the only one…_

THE END

A/N: Um… (Hopefully) see you guys next week? Yeah, that's all for this week… Until then, see y'all next week!

Bye, y'all!

LM Simpson


	4. The Bet

**The Bet**

A fan fiction by LM Simpson

Disclaimer: This is just a story written by an IrmaxMartin fan, okay?

LM Simpson's tidbits (A/N): (Throws toast to Wizard-theif)

I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in over a month; I've been having writer's block with this series... The good news, however, is that I finally have a new one-shot!

Enjoy!

**Table 3: Comedy/Humor**

**Prompt 3: Joke**

0000

"I bet you, my little creampuff, that I can make a really old bad joke funny."

Irma raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Really? I want to see this…"

"All right, then… Okay, let's start with the original punchline, shall we? Why did the chicken cross the road?"

"Pbbt! Easy—to get to the other side!"

"Correct!" Martin said, "Now ask me the same joke!"

Irma took a deep breath. "Okay, Martin—Just why did the chicken cross the road?"

Martin thought about a good punchline for a good half a second before replying, "To be used in the name of science!"

To his surprise, she was not amused, her arms across her chest. "Uh-huh… You got that from Robot Chicken, didn't you?"

"…No, I don't think so… Just ask me the question again…"

"Why did the chicken cross the road?"

"To see the roaster on the other side!"

"…And the chicken and rooster's names were Irma and Martin?"

"Irma, not all jokes have that kind of subliminal message! Okay, so many do… but that's not the point! Just treat it like what it is—a joke, okay? Now ask me it again…"

She did what she was told, and heard the boy blurt out, "To avoid being slaughtered for food!"

"Try again…"

And with that, Irma repeated the phrase numerous more times, each time with Martin calling out different punchlines: "Because it wanted to die!", "To join the protest at the KFC on the other side!" and "To run away from el Chupacabra!"

He was astonished to see her smile slightly and even let out a chuckle or two at the last one. "Okay, that one's still pretty corny, but… yeah… I like it…"

"So did I do what I bet you I could?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, I guess…"

"I bet I can do it again—"

"And this time, I get to choose the joke!"

"Be my guest, dear!"

Irma mused about it, thinking of all the old jokes she had heard throughout her life. _Orange you glad? Nah, can't do anything with that really… Why is six afraid of seven? Same thing… The aristocrats?_ She thought, reminded of the premise of a movie she parents had watched one night not long ago. _I don't really wanna do this to him, but that's all I can think of right now…_

"…Martin… How about you do… The aristocrats?"

"The aristocrats? Never heard of it… What is it?"

"Well…" Irma leaned over to him, cupped her hands over his ear, and whispered what it was…

0000

Before Martin knew it, he was being thrown out of the Lair home by her father, red with rage.

"…And don't you ever, and I mean _ever_, dare use such vulgar language around my daughter again," he yelled before slamming the door, "or else I'm going to personally make sure that your future is nothing but a living hell!"

After Mister Lair was gone, Martin got up from the walkway with a scratch or two on his body. "But I didn't get to say, 'And what do you call the act? 'The Aristocrats!''" he yelled.

THE END

A/N: Poor Martin—Irma had challenged him to use what is considered to be one of the dirtiest jokes ever (A documentary, "The Aristocrats," where comedians did their own version of it, came out a couple of years ago (I have yet to even see it anywhere in stores for numerous reasons, though… XD))…

Thanks for reading, by the way. Until the next prompt, though, have a great day!

Bye, y'all!

LM Simpson


	5. Burnt Twinkie

**Burnt Twinkie**

A fan fiction by LM Simpson

Disclaimer: I don't own W.I.T.C.H. or Twinkies; 'nuff said.

LM Simpson's tidbits (A/N): (throws toast to Wizard-theif and Tom Dajin) Thanks for the reviews!

The following ficlet is based on an incident that really happened to me; my brother and I decided to test something I heard (i.e. the Twinkie thing) and well… It didn't go too well, to say the least…

Enjoy!

**Table: Comedy/Humor**

**Prompt 1: Laughter**

0000

"What's wrong, my little cherry pie?"

"I need to do a science project, and I can't think of anything to do other than that stupid volcano project! Hay Lin is going to see if wint-O-green Life Savers spark when you eat them in the dark; why can't I think of something that creative?"

"Hmm… I heard that if you microwave a Twinkie, it will explode?"

That caught Irma's attention. "Explode, you say? Then I'll do it! Come on, let's get some Twinkies before the store closes!"

0000

Irma and Martin walked into the kitchen. Martin opened the Twinkie box while Irma wrote "Attack of the Exploding Twinkies!" on a sheet of paper and took a plate out of the cupboard. As she placed one of the treats on it and placed the plate in the microwave, Martin said:

"Wait, Irma! Shouldn't you write your hypothesis first?"

"I already know it—if I place a Twinkie in the microwave than it will be covered with chunks of sponge cake and creamy filling within seconds!"

With that said, she slammed the door, set the time, and watched with Martin as the Twinkie began to—

"Steam? Hey, my little muffin, I see steam!"

"I see it too!..." Irma's grin started to change. "Wait a minute… It's not steaming—it's smoking! The Twinkie's on fire!"

"Eep! Turn it off and don't even think of opening that door!"

Irma obeyed, and laughed nervously as she said, "Whew, that was close!"

In the next room Christopher yelled, "Hey, Irma! Are you making chicken or something? I want some!"

She sniffed the air; it _did _smell like she was cooking chicken… "Sorry, Christopher, but you can't have any!" she replied, letting out a few more chuckles as Martin opened the microwave door and sprayed the fire extinguisher at the still smoldering Twinkie after removing it…

THE END

A/N: Hopefully, the last five will come quicker than this one did; thanks for reading and have a good day!

Bye, y'all!

LM Simpson

(PS- I did try out the wint-O-green Life Saver trick; it's really cool looking. Just use a fresh one when doing it, okay?)


	6. Happy Bear Campout

**Happy Bear Campout**

A fan fiction by LM Simpson

Disclaimer: I don't own any incarnation of W.I.T.C.H.; that is all.

LM Simpson's tidbits (A/N): Hmm… I've noticed something- almost all of these are drabbles. Should I change "oneshots" to "short oneshots" or what? XD

Enjoy!

**Table: Comedy/Humor**

**Prompt 10: A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words**

0000

Irma was walking down the halls of Sheffield Institute when fellow students began to act peculiarly around her.

"Hey, Irma," one boy said, trying hard not to snicker, "How was it like being with the Berenstain Bears?"

"What?"

The boy only ran away. Continuing, Irma noticed others were also snickering, turning away, or concealing themselves with the latest edition of the school paper. It soon got to the point that she wanted to know a good explanation for it; maybe he friends knew the reason…

"Oh no, not you guys too!" Frustrated, she ripped the newspaper from Cornelia and Will's hands. The other members of W.I.T.C.H. only stared as the water guardian discovered the source of the strange behavior.

"…Since when have you been in the Heatherfield Happy Bears, Irma?" Cornelia asked.

Irma ignored the girl's question and concentrated more on finding the name of whoever photographed that rendezvous. It wasn't long before she found her man; she crumbled the paper and threw it on the floor. Through gritted teeth, she said, "Martin… I'll be right back…"

As she left her friends, she passed by the Gumper sisters, whose backs were against the wall.

Courtney grinned. "Mission accomplished," she said before exchanging a high-five with Bess.

THE END

A/N: (checks word count) Oh, yeah, that's a drabble…

Thanks for reading, by the way; be sure to have a good day as well, okay?

Bye, y'all!

LM Simpson


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